


Looking Back as We Move Forward

by Zana_Zira



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Brotherly Bonding, Gen, Men of Letters Bunker, No Slash, Prompt Fill, Sam's Birthday, Season/Series 09, Watermelons, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-02
Updated: 2014-05-02
Packaged: 2018-01-21 14:10:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1553216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zana_Zira/pseuds/Zana_Zira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the upcoming battles against Abaddon and Metatron looming on the horizon, something as simple as Sam's thirty-first birthday almost gets swept under the rug. But Dean knows he and Sam might not have much time left to spend together, and he's determined to enjoy the one last bit of normalcy they may ever get. Happy birthday, Sam!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Looking Back as We Move Forward

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters are the property of Eric Kripke. Sadly, I do not own these guys.
> 
> A/N: This short fic was written to celebrate Sam Winchester's 31st birthday, which is today, May second. Happy birthday, Sammy!

When morning rolled around on May second, 2014, Dean Winchester was already awake, watching the sun beams make their way through the blinds and across the book sitting in front of him on the old desk. He'd actually been awake all night, trying to find out more about the Mark of Cain and the Knights of Hell before the two of them were supposed to meet Castiel and hopefully get rid of Abaddon and Metatron once and for all.

So far, as had been the case for the last several sleepless weeks, he'd found absolutely zilch. All he had to show for his efforts now was a slight hangover, an empty bottle of whiskey, and some itchy stubble to remind him that he really should have showered and shaved yesterday before diving into another all-night research session.

Sighing and rubbing his aching eyes, he stood from his chair, slamming the book shut with an irritated huff before striding into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee. It was too late to sleep now, especially since Sam would probably be awake soon. They needed to start planning their next move, he supposed. This wasn't going to be an easy battle, and going in unprepared was almost guaranteed to get them killed. Then again, they were almost guaranteed to be killed anyway, but still…

Dean's depressing train of thought came to an immediate standstill when his eyes landed on the calendar hanging from the side of the refrigerator. May second… Today Sam was going to be thirty-one years old. Dean almost couldn't believe it, but Sam had actually managed to make it another year after the Trials. Even though the odds had been stacked completely against him ever since he managed to kill that stupid Hellhound, somehow his little brother had managed to pull through for another year.

The thought was bittersweet. Dean knew that he had had a large part to play in Sam's continued existence after the Trials, and he knew he hadn't nearly been forgiven for that part yet. But even so, for some reason all he could think about now was that his little brother, who was by all rights almost his own son, had managed to cheat death for another year. And considering one or both of them might be gone in only a few days' time, he knew this could be the last chance for both of them to enjoy something as simple as a birthday together ever again. If that was the case, he knew he had to make this one special somehow.

But what could Dean possibly get for Sam that he didn't already have or wasn't able to get for himself whenever he wanted? It had to be something meaningful, obviously. But what in their crappy lives really had any meaning lately?

He was standing at the kitchen counter, lost in thought with his slowly-cooling coffee held unnoticed in his hand, when a decades-old memory suddenly popped into his head – a memory of Sammy on his sixth birthday, which seemed to be an eternity ago now. Dean was only ten at the time, but even then he had been Sammy's pseudo-father, and he remembered feeling as happy about his little five-year-old brother's birthday as any parent would, and wanting to make it special…

* * *

_It had started off just like any normal Monday. Sam rolled out of bed with his hair flying in all directions, toddling off to the bathroom to try to fix it with a ratty comb and only making a bigger mess that Dean would have to straighten out later. Dean got Sam's clothes picked out before dressing himself, making sure there were two bowls of Lucky Charms ready for them to eat before they went off to school together. Sam got ready fast, always excited to go to school, and Dean had to rush to get his own clothes on and eat before Sam was practically dragging him out the door, still young enough not to mind holding hands with his brother when they crossed the busy street in front of the run-down motel._

_School had gone like it always did. Sam ran off to his kindergarten glass, where he was already showing a love of school above what most kids had, and Dean dragged himself to his own homeroom and spent the whole day worrying about whether his brother was doing okay. When it was over, they both went home and Sam asked if he could go play at his friend Blake's house with some classmates – the kid lived just down the street from the motel where they were staying._

_Dean saw no problem with it, so Sam was off like a shot, running with the other kids until they sprinted around the corner and out of Dean's sight. He sighed, going back into the room and pulling out the small package wrapped in newspaper he'd hidden underneath his bed the night before._

_It wasn't much, just two of the new Ninja Turtles action figures that everyone Sam's age had been into recently – he was pretty sure these two were called Leonardo and Raphael – but he was hopeful that Sam would really like them. He'd skipped at least one meal a day for the last two weeks to be able to spare enough grocery money for a present, but as long as it made his brother happy on his birthday it would be worth it._

_Dean watched a few cartoons and was just getting ready to fix himself a can of Spaghetti-O's on the stove when he heard pounding on the motel door, followed by muffled sobbing that could only belong to Sammy. He was across the room in two seconds, flinging the door open and grunting when Sam tackled him in a hug and clutched onto him, crying uncontrollably._

_"Sammy? Hey, what's the matter?" he asked softly, already plotting the murder of whichever one of those kids had dared make his brother cry._

_Sam just shook his head, burying his face in Dean's chest and muttering something incoherent, and Dean sighed tiredly, shutting the door and wrapping his arms around his distraught little brother._

_"Sammy, whatever it is, you gotta tell me or I can't make it better. Okay?" He rubbed his hand up and down the smaller boy's back, hating the way he could feel it tremble with gasping, hiccupping sobs. Murder would be the least of those kids' worries if this kept up much longer…_

_"D-Dee-ean," Sam wailed, pulling away from his brother with his arms wrapped tightly around his belly._

_"What? Does your stomach hurt?" Dean asked gently, worried when he realized it had to be one hell of a stomach-ache to make Sam this hysterical. If it was, he'd probably have to take Sam to the hospital, which meant Dad would need to be called and come back from his hunt early. That wasn't going to be a fun phone call…_

_But Sam shook his head again, more tears leaving salty tracks down his face as he fought to pull himself together enough to speak._

_"Dean, I- I'm sorry, I di- didn't know – I didn't m-mean to and I d-don' wanna diiiiee!" The last word ended on a wail, and Sam was back to bawling again._

_"Huh? Didn't mean to do what, Sam?" Now he was worried. What had his brother done? He shouldn't be worried about dying – neither Dean nor Dad had told him anything about what was out there yet, right? So then what –_

_"I was at Blake's and – and we were eating watermelon…" Sam said once he'd managed to get his voice under control again. "And I didn't spit all the seeds out and I swallowed one and now a watermelon's gonna grow in my tummy and I'm gonna explode!" His hands were held over his belly again, his eyes wide and terrified, and Dean bit his lip hard so he wouldn't burst out laughing._

That _was what Sam was afraid of? A watermelon seed? Thank God._

_"Aww, Sammy," Dean said with a chuckle, hugging his brother and guiding them both over to sit down on the bed. "That's not gonna happen. You're gonna be fine."_

_"But how do you know?" Sam asked tearfully, still staring at his stomach as if expecting a watermelon vine to come winding out of his bellybutton any second._

_"Because for one thing, I've eaten the seeds plenty of times and nothing ever happened. And for another, if any plant ever tried to make you explode I'd kick its ass. Understand?"_

_"Yeah," Sam answered with a watery smile. "'Cause you're brave like a ninja turtle, right?"_

_Dean smiled back, giving Sam a squeeze and reaching for the newspaper-covered package that had tumbled onto the floor. "Right. And so are you. Which reminds me, Birthday Boy, are you ready to open your present?"_

_Sam's eyes grew as wide. "You got me a present?"_

_"Sure did. Here, open it."_

_"Thanks!" Sam tore into the wrapping excitedly, and when he saw the two figures inside he stilled, holding each in one hand and turning them over carefully._

_"Uh, if you don't like 'em, Sammy, I can take them back…" Dean said nervously, worried by the sudden silence from his hyperactive little brother._

_"No, no! I love them!" Sam said, holding them protectively against his body. "I was just thinking. If we're like ninja turtles, then I can be Leonardo –" he looked at the turtle with a blue bandana, "– since he likes school and stuff. And you should be Raphael." He held up the turtle wearing a red bandana so Dean could see it. "He's really brave and strong, and he always protects his brothers, just like you."_

_"You bet he does," Dean said with a grin. "And he always will. Happy birthday, Sammy."_

* * *

When he pulled his thoughts back to the present, Dean was surprised to find himself grinning. It had been twenty-five years since he'd even thought about that day, and it made him more than a little nostalgic. If only things could be so simple now. If only he could make all of Sam's problems go away with a little hug and a couple of ninja turtles. But the life they knew now was nothing like it was back then; things would never be that simple again, not without that blissful ignorance.

Still, thinking back on how they used to be had given Dean an idea, and he finally knew exactly what he was going to do for Sam today.

When Sam came into the kitchen at a little after ten o'clock that morning, he found Dean just finishing up breakfast, which today consisted of pancakes, sausage, bacon, eggs, biscuits and gravy, and a gigantic bowl of watermelon in the center of the table. He gaped at the enormous amount of food, wondering just who Dean thought was going to eat all that, and then his eyes caught on the tiny note attached to the bowl of juicy red fruit:

_Have some watermelon. And no worries, it's seedless. I double-checked._

Sam snorted behind his hand, immediately knowing what Dean was referring to and shocked that his brother still remembered that after all this time. Man, he'd been such a wimp when he was a kid.

"What is all this?" he asked when he was sure he wasn't about to start cackling hysterically.

Dean shrugged. "It's your birthday. Figured we should at least do  _something_  to mark the occasion." He reached over to another place on the counter, holding up a DVD case for Sam to see. "I thought we could just eat breakfast, then chill out and have a couple beers while we watch that  _Game of Thrones_  show you like so much."

Sam smiled, taking the plate Dean handed him and starting to fill it with food, especially the watermelon. "Sure."

And for the rest of the morning, there was no thought of planning the war against Abaddon, of the Mark of Cain, or the First Blade, or the angel war or Metatron and Gadreel. There was only Dean, Sam, and the television, and…

"Happy birthday, Sammy."

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a review if you can find the time.


End file.
